Screams pierce the sullen air. Many people have tried to run and escape their fate. Others stay hidden, under beds and in attics, hoping for a bit of luck, praying they won't be found. But fear is strong in humans, and nothing can seem to mask such a scent.
A young boy, nine years old, hides deep in the wooden frames of his closet. His ebony hair clings to his face with sweat. He can hear the cries of his parents. First his father, who begged to be spared. Man shouldn't sound as hopeless as his father did. His mother, insisting the man was the only thing in her life. The boy knows it's all a ploy, to try and protect him.
"Oh God, where is God?" His mother prays, before a shriek escapes her mualed body. The boy covers his mouth, trying not to scream, or vomit, or both. He hears footsteps up the stairs. He almost hopes he's found. He doubts his parents are alive. He wouldn't be able to see them. Her brunette hair caked in blood, or his father's throat still struggling for a final breath, if their corpses remain distinguishable at all. The boy thought it better to accept death than have to life in the misery, knowing his whole world laid at the bottom of the stairs, drenched in their last fight for life.
The stairs creak louder, and the footsteps fall heavy. The boy repeats a prayed his mother taught him. He wished he had learned a final prayer, to secure his soul would go to heaven, but he doubts God could deny him, not after the torture he had endured. The boy can hear the monster enter his room. He can't hide anymore, surely his scent has been followed. He closes his eyes, and hopes it will be painless, when he is abruptly found.
A hand is placed over his mouth, preventing a scream. His green eyes grow wide with terror as he stares at the shape before him. He's covered in blood, and face is hidden by a mask, painted with fine blue details that form an elegant, but fictional face. The only true feature he can see from the being is scarlet eyes that could have been beautiful, if not for the resemblance of blood they held.
"You'll be safe." The vampire spoke, his voice sounding soft and far away. Dimitrov suddenly felt very tired, too tired to fight the fright that engulfed him. He nodded carefully, before shutting his eyes, laying his head against the wall.
The last thing he remembered was his savior's voice, calling down that no human was left.